40 posts tagged “qotd”
Who do you tell your secrets to?
Jeez, Question of the Day, when did this turn into "Let's Riff On Hotrod's Insecurities Week?" I'm in a much better mood than yesterday, so you'll get no more wallowing in self-pity out of me. Instead, I'd just like to inform you that I don't tell my secrets to anyone. That's what makes them secrets.
Would you rather have one best friend or ten acquaintances? Why?
Shit, Question of the Day - at this point, I'd take either. I'm so lonely.
What is it too soon for?
Submitted by Design Shark.
I'll admit, Question of the Day, that this one threw me at first. You see, most people complain about something they can't wait for, rather than something that has arrived prematurely. In fact, about the only thing most people complain about coming too soon (other than, ahem, coming too soon) is the annual holiday creep. And they're right. Frankly, Christmas decorations could show up in stores on December 22 and that would still be too early. But that's not very timely now, is it? I do enough complaining about Christmas after Thanksgiving; I don't need to go there in June.
Ordinarily I might opine that it's too soon for the brutal DC summer, but the weather has been rather mild and tolerable lately. So I guess it's too soon to start training for that marathon. The month since I signed up has just flown by. I didn't run much before the big ride in Tahoe, because I didn't want to risk jeopardizing that ride with an injury. And I haven't run enough since the big ride because I tweaked something in my left foot during the ride and have been in some pain since. It's felt better toward the end of this week, but it still seems too soon to run four miles on Sunday.
And, of course, it's too soon for Christmas. It's always too soon for Christmas. I guess I don't have a problem going there this early after all.
What is something you consider to be "overrated." (Ed. note: Bonus points if you show it to us!)
Submitted by Laurie.
What is a recent white lie you told?
This is quite a coincidence, Question of the Day. Just this afternoon, I was talking with my co-worker about my blog and I mentioned how much I've been enjoying answering your questions. So your answer, then, is that lie I told three hours ago. Or the lie I'm telling right now. You choose.
Would you ever want to be a model? Why or why not?
It's funny you ask this, Question of the Day. I've been approached by several talent scouts about doing some modeling, but I have turned them all down. Truth be told, despite my rugged handsomeness, I am quite camera shy. I just don't like posing for pictures. That's something of an impediment in the modeling business, I hear.
Have you ever burned yourself?
Well, Question of the Day, this is an auspicious beginning to the next week. I'm impressed by your query, as it manages to walk that oh-so-fine line between banal and slightly morbid. A lesser interrogator might have asked "Have you ever been burned?" leaving the question open to interpretation. And I might have answered with a story about being swindled (in Shanghai) or insulted (that's a burn). Or I might have mentioned that despite the fact that I sunburn quite easily, I have a shaky (at best) relationship with sunscreen and that I am currently sporting a nifty sunglasses tan line and that my face was peeling for much of the past week after being outside all day last Sunday. But your question implies a certain degree of participation beyond mere circumstance on the part of the individual so that information is not really relevant either. You have limited my response to a simple yes-or-no answer. Well played, Question of the Day. Well played.
So, no, I have never burned myself. But thank you for asking.
A college friend of mine and Vanna's (and Vrabel's, for that matter) works for the Masonry Advisory Council. A few years ago, one of the tasks for which he was responsible was responding to the questions - technical or otherwise - which were emailed to his office. I saw a few from the "otherwise" pile. Every now and then, when he got a real doozy, he would forward it along to our little clique and let us have a go at it. After a few gems found their way to my inbox, I decided to have a little fun of my own. I submitted a question under a false identity. My name was Steve French and I raised bonobo monkeys (Yes, I know they're actually apes. Chill.) for fun and profit in suburban Tempe. I was interested in constructing a shelter on the roof of my apartment building and was concerned with both the expansion properties of concrete block in the heat of the Arizona sun and my bonobos' response to their new habitat. My email found its way back to me within about forty seconds of when I sent it.
Anyway, the point of my story - aside from that I seem to have a knack today for boring tangents - is that people send websites lots of stupid questions. I mentioned last year that Slate.com had posted a list of some of the questions submitted to their Explainer column which didn't make the cut. Well, they've done it again. And you can vote for the stupi- I mean, best. Like this one: "Why are some cats softer to the touch than others? Is it possible I have the softest cat in the world?" I'll freely admit I'm not sure off the top of my head how I'd answer the first part of that question if it came across my desk. But the answer to the second part would definitely mention that while it is possible that the submitter could have the softest cat in the world, the actual softest cat in the world was owned by Steve French of Tempe, Arizona.
I've been trying not to make too big a deal of this (yinz know how humble I am), but it's not like I can keep the secret for too much longer. I mean, the movie comes out this Friday. So here goes:
A few years back, Paramount Pictures approached me about purchasing the rights to my life story. I balked at first, but they were persuasive. "Your story," they said, "needs to be told. All those things you've done. All those people you've helped. It's truly inspirational. You are - dare we say? - a hero." Those were their exact words. Well, how could I say no to that? So I told them that they could make their film, but I didn't want any payment in return. They insisted that the hundreds of thousands of dollars they wanted to give me had to go somewhere - strictly for accounting purposes, of course - so they generously donated it on my behalf to the Human Fund, and we were on our way.
I knew immediately I wanted to work with Andy Samberg. He and I had been looking for a project to do together for a while, and this came along at just the right time. Originally, the picture was conceived to be an epic bio-pic along the lines of "Gandhi" or "Lawrence of Arabia," but I was quickly able to convince the studio suits to go a different direction. As a gifted storyteller, I have come to realize that sometimes the most universal themes come from the smaller scope, more personal stories. So the script was re-written to focus on my heyday as a stuntman; other facets of my complex personality (my years of public service teaching the lepers to sing, the hundreds of piano concertos I have penned, my award-winning cheesemaking - to name but a few) were excised. Plus, I reminded them, those stories would make excellent fodder for sequels once the franchise was established.
Like any other "true" movie, certain details have been enhanced for dramatic effect or altered to protect the privacy of certain individuals. Some of those changes are:
- My last name isn't Kimble. I have enough problems as it is with people following me around in the hopes of snatching a mere glimpse of me to exacerbate the problem by allowing my given name to be used in a major motion picture. The first name, however, is obviously real.
- I don't actually have a step-father; my parents remain happily married. I was, however, adopted, which had been a source of some familial conflict. The screenwriters thought changing an adoptive father to a step-father would help the film resonate more deeply with more people, and I didn't object.
- My big stunt - way back when - was planned to be a jump over thirteen school buses, not fifteen. The studio was adamant about changing this for some reason. Who am I to quibble over a number?
- The character of Denise, played by Isla Fisher, is actually a composite of five or six different girls (I lost count), all of whom were way more attractive than Ms. Fisher. I pleaded with the casting director to find somebody less homely, but her star was on the rise after the success of "Wedding Crashers" and, by default, "Borat." I was overruled.
- My hair is naturally a little less curly than Andy's.
So there you have it. Go see "Hot Rod" - in theaters everywhere this Friday. And think of me. Come to think of it - seeing as the nickname which has stuck with me is a constant reminder of my daredevil days, I probably don't have to write that origin story to fulfill my Question of the Day commitment. Yinz can just watch it unfold before your eyes. Besides, yinz didn't really want to read it anyway - not when a movie version of the same thing is coming out in less than a week. Everybody knows watching stuff is way better than reading stuff.
